Pooltoy Brig sketch from last night :)

Discoholic đȘ©

â
wallacepolsom
$LAYYYTER
i don't do bad sauce passes

ç„æ„ / Permanent Vacation
Aqua Utopiaïœæ”·ăźćșă§èšæ¶ă玥ă
we're not kids anymore.
Sade Olutola
Show & Tell

tannertan36
KIROKAZE

PR's Tumblrdome
h
Cosmic Funnies
No title available
Three Goblin Art
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

izzy's playlists!
YOU ARE THE REASON

seen from Spain

seen from United States
seen from Saudi Arabia

seen from Malaysia

seen from United Kingdom

seen from India
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Germany
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States

seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from China

seen from United States
@radarhead
Pooltoy Brig sketch from last night :)
I need to get back to drawing freaky little cryptid guys I think
His name is Possum please be nice 2 him
why so silent good messieurs
Iâm SEVERELY disappointed this post didnât include the eye witness statement of the mirror crash incident in question
"Smokey Eyes" - a fantasy western comic about a cowboy trying to get back their own memories
My mom likes to tell me about how when I was a little kid riding public transport with her I'd always smile and giggle and chat with weird old ladies who smelled like cat pee and homeless folks and strangers dressed in bizarre outfits but any time a tidy and respectable businessman in a suit and tie waved at me I'd immediately clam up, and she takes a great deal of pride in my supposed inherentability to clock personalities but the truth is I do vaguely remember those bus rides, and it was never about the clothes or the hair or the smell, but more because everyone "strange" asked interesting questions and listened to what I had to say and seemed to think about what I said while the neat and tidy and rigid folks only ever acted like they were going through the motions, which was boring as hell and also pretty annoying
Well-to-do finance manager with tidy shoes: "Why hello, sweetheart. Can you say 'hi'? Aren't you cute. Are you on a trip with your mom?"
4 year old me: why must we do this
Fantastic old woman in the leopard print coat: "Why yes, my tooth IS real silver! Nobody ever asks me that. Do you like cats?"
4 year old me, suddenly paying attention: Finally, A Person Of Intellect
The endless loop of "I have got to get weirder" and "I need to be normal"
they're still terming random transfems as i type this i see which does make quite a statement doing this today specifically
watched three girls who reblogged its new blog mutual aidpost (made literally 15 minutes ago) already disappear from its notifs. transfems are not included in their pride :/
QUITE the statement to be nuking transfems at the current accelerated pace right at the start of pride month like this, isn't it
Went to my 4-month post-op check-up and my doctor said I can lay eggs now
You just hate me because the patterns on my clothes move around like they do on chowder and yours donât
cool. another black child died in a hate crime
A South Carolina jury on Monday found a store owner not guilty of murder in the 2023 shooting of a Black 14-year-old.
apparently the murder happened in 2023 after doing some research but the murderer has been found not guilty.
black children get murdered and become victims of hate crimes every fucking day. this is ridiculous
im posting this here despite the website being extremely white centered, I want people to understand how in this country it's basically ok to murder and victimize black people, especially women and children in the name of "self defense" and white America will reward you for your antiblackness.
Shout out to the autistic whoâs abilities have regressed as theyâve gotten older.
âYou didnât used to be like this when you were a kid.â I know please donât remind me
"This never bothered you when you were a kid."
Yes it did. I just let it slide because I was taught that I'm "too sensitive" anytime something bothered me. But now I'm finally standing up for myself.
"You never struggled with this when you were a kid."
Yes I did. I just burned myself out in order to do it so I wouldn't be punished. But now I'm accepting myself enough to not force myself to do what I was never meant to do.
"You didn't have these problems when you were younger."
Yes, I did. I just spent my child/teen years with structured institutions like school while not having to worry about whether I had a roof over my head or food to eat and spent my early adult years using up every bit of adrenaline I will ever have to ignore the fact that I've been chronically burnt out my whole life.
Once when I was in undergrad, someone described something as âproblematicâ in class and our professor was like, âThatâs cool, but âproblematicâ doesnât really mean anything. It means that the thing youâre describing has a problem, and in and of itself thatâs not bad. Art, especially, should always have problems, or else itâs not interesting and not art, either. It sounds like youâre trying to say that this is bad, but you donât want to say âbad.â Is that right?â
So from then on whenever one of us called something problematic, he would make us talk it out until we could name the âbadâ thing we were hinting at. In this particular class, 7/10 it was some type of oppression, and the remainder was like, âIâm uncomfortable because this is very new/confusing/pushing boundaries that made me feel safe.â
Once we stopped calling things âproblematicâ and stopping at that, class got way more interesting and... we all had to say, like, âthatâs racistâ or âthatâs misogynisticâ or âew capitalism grossâ out loud, which a lot of us had never done in a classroom before. Or we had to be like, âUhhh... Iâm not sure whatâs so bad?â and confront our own beliefs and that was maybe even more useful.
Anyway. Whenever I see the word problematic, I canât help but think of this professor being like, âGood starting point, now letâs get specific.â I think when we have to commit to saying âthatâs ___â it requires a lot more careful thought about the truth and impact and complexities of whatever weâre claiming. Sometimes there really is some bullshit afoot, and also sometimes itâs art, and it should be full of problems, because thatâs what art is.
#'this is present in the text' is often a good first step #but those second and third ones (naming it; describing its function) are vital (via @elucubrare)
wolves have been renamed to woowoo bears
Every day I handle more money than I will ever make. Every day.
At the start of my employment, my boss showed me videos of people stealing, and we both had a chuckle about it. How silly they were! There was a camera overhead, and itâs not to watch the shoppers. See, we canât actually stop shoplifters. They get away with it maybe nine out of ten times. But we, who are watched and tallied and witnessed? We are always caught.
At first it was hard to hold one hundred dollars bills. An amount I had never seen before. An amount that didnât exist in my household. Itâs normal now. Here is something that is not for me.
âWhat the hell, Iâll take another,â says the man, pondering our 200 dollar watches. What the hell. Total comes to 580 and not even a flinch in his face. I have been working for 11 hours today and made only 110 dollars. It will go to my rent. Today I work for free, it feels. When I get my check, I will have 35 dollars left for food and saving.
The six hundreds he hands me go into the cash register. For a moment, I imagine having money. Then I put it away, counting out his change.
I know for a fact we sell our products for double what they are worth. That I could be making commission. That they could hand me those 580 dollars and change my life and not even mark the difference in their checkbooks. Heâs not the only sale they make today, but I am the reason they made it. Heâs not the only one spending 600 dollars, but if I hadnât spent two hours with him telling me about his life, he wouldnât have spent any. I go home. I donât own a watch.
I have watched and rewatched a video on how to make salmon four ways. My shopping list is always the same. Pasta. Rice. Tuna. If I can afford butter it was a good week. I dream of the world I will never walk in, where I can throw the best fish fillet in the cart with a shrug. I hold hundreds in my hand and look up at the camera. I put them under the cash drawer.
I go to work. I scrap together my savings. I eat my bowl of rice slowly. My manager takes a paid week off from work just for his birthday. He owns a yacht.Â
Iâm not worth the cost of a watch.
i wrote this while i was working at orlandoâs walt disney world parks.
i was part of their college program. i moved to the state for it. they legally owned the building i was living in and still charged me rent. i ostensibly was being charged to work for them. it was a 2 bedroom apartment and they placed 6 adult women in it in forced triples.
as many as one in ten disney employees have experienced homelessness while working for the company. despite huge efforts to unionize, strike, or otherwise demand fair treatment; disney has refused to increase employee quality of life.
disney admits publicly that a good portion of their success is because the employees (âcast membersâ) are dedicated, passionate, and selfless. this is never reflected in pay. even âfaceâ characters (ie those that are princesses etc) make barely above a minimum wage.
at the time that i worked there, i made $8.50 an hour. at one point i was asked to create a human shield around a bag because a bomb dog had alerted to it. for eight fucking dollars an hour.
i now work a very cushy office job. i have bought the salmon and cooked it all four ways.
i go to the store. i am nice to the person behind the counter. she looks up at the camera while she counts out my change. there is nothing fundamentally different about her and i.
we are both worth more than the watch, anyway.
Man I miss free the nipple. Its getting warmer and we donât even have free the nipple anymore
"Am I having a crisis or is my blood sugar just low or is it because I'm tired and should go to bed"
Slapping my own hand away from the post button over and over as I type some kind of nonsense instead of brushing our teeth
"Am I having a crisis or is my blood sugar just low or is it because I'm tired and should go to bed"